Chasing the Duke by tracy sumner

Author:tracy sumner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: tracy sumner

CHAPTER 5

WHERE THERE IS SALVATION IN FALSE STARTS

The plums were a surprise, Camille concluded, cupping her hand around a fruit and pulling it loose. She’d nursed the tree through the fall and winter, checked water levels daily, and experimented with different fertilizers. But she hadn’t expected it to bud. And in the middle of winter, no less. The humid greenhouse climate the only reason it had. The poor thing didn’t realize it was December. In Yorkshire.

This tree was going to be the making of her as an amateur botanist. It would be the reason the society in London finally agreed to speak to a female. The gentlemen on the committee had no idea a new variety of plum had been located in Sussex.

She was going to enjoy telling them.

“Camille Elise, I can’t believe you’re awake after such a long night.” Her aunt entered the conservatory with a clatter, the door slamming behind her. She patted her head and smiled crookedly, carefully avoiding ceramic pots and bags of soil on her way to her niece. “Megrims, you know. Too much wine, too much dancing.” Giggling, she made a prancing swirl down the center aisle. “But it was such fun. The countess does throw a marvelous bash! Definitely her best in years. Mercer made the evening, showing up as he did. Though he didn’t stay long. But one cannot argue with success. You shared a waltz, and the ton is humming. Everyone’s so thrilled he’s back.”

Camille dropped a plum in the straw basket sitting at her feet. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

Her aunt stumbled and righted herself against the wooden bench housing a variety of garden tools. “What did you say? Something about Mercer?” She banged her ear with the heel of her hand. “You caught me on the bad side. That horrendous cold three years ago. I can’t hear the same out of it. Distressing, but what can one do? The local sawbones didn’t help one whit. Hot oil drops, posh!”

Camille looped the basket over her forearm and settled a linen napkin atop the bounty inside. “I’m jilting Ridley, Bel. I sent a letter in this morning’s post. A very humble, apologetic message, taking all manner of responsibility for the decision.” She glanced at her aunt, then away, through the wall of windows. The sky was a clear, brilliant blue. As sure as her decision. “But it’s jilting just the same.”

Bel puffed out her cheeks and released a gusty breath. “Not especially nice to announce this right before Christmas. His mother will be distraught, poor thing. You’ll be on her list, and I’ve heard she has a long one. Expect to be cut dead when you see her, for the rest of her life. The dowager viscountess never forgets or forgives.”

“Better that than marrying her son when I don’t love him.”

Picking a splinter of wood loose from the bench, Bel twirled it between her fingers. “No one believed it was love, darling.”

Camille stepped close and grasped her aunt’s hand. Tears pricked her lids, and she blinked them back.

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